Don't You See
by iwantsprezzatura
Summary: "After all these years, I still can't hate you, no matter how many reasons you give me or how much I want to. After all this time, I still haven't given up hope." - Sequel to Didn't You Know - Tom Riddle/OC - please read&review!
1. Aftermath

**Why, hello.**

**This is the sequel for my story "Didn't You Know", so if you haven't read that, I suggest you go over to my profile now to check it out, because otherwise this story will probably not make a lot of sense.  
To everyone who _did_ read "Didn't You Know": welcome back. I'm sorry it took me so long (10 months, can you believe it?), but I did always intend to keep my promise, so here it is.**

**I apologize for any linguistic mistakes, since I am not a native English speaker, so please bear with me.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  
Who would've thought?**

* * *

The mark had burnt as painful as it never had in the last – how many? – years. I wasn't keeping track. I didn't know how much time had passed since it had burnt like that. It was constantly burning slightly by now. But today, whatever day it was, it was different. I could feel it.

I could feel _him_.

It wasn't exactly a happy thought. I couldn't remember anything happy anymore. I couldn't remember anything happy, anything good about Tom anymore. I fairly remembered that sometime, there had been something like that. Nowadays, I only remembered the bad parts. The torture. The killing. Red eyes glowing in the dark.

And I was innocent. I had never been a Death Eater! Even that wasn't a happy thought. It was a damn frustrating thought.

I faintly heard a screech, almost triumphing and I wondered what that was. I heard yelling, other screeches, a high voice giggling, laughing maniacally.

And then – suddenly – it was as if the veil was lifted. I felt like I could breathe for the first time since – since so very long. Memories were streaming through my head, memories I had all forgot about.

"_Is that seat still free?" I smiled and nodded and Tom sat down next to me._

_... Tom's face lightened up and he hugged me. "I missed you!"_

_... __"You already have my heart. You should have a part have my soul, too."_

_... __"Stay," he whispered and I nodded_

_... __He kissed me on the cheek as he passed me_

_..._ _"But they can't tell when to be scared and when not. They don't know me well enough... that's only you."_

My eyes widened as the cell's bars were suddenly busted away. I jumped to my feet, new energy filling every inch of my body.

The dust settled and I could finally see a tall man with a pale, snakelike face standing there and watching me

His red eyes were glowing in the dark.

* * *

Water was running over me and I sighed contently, leaning against the shower wall. There was no way that I had appreciated hot water any more in my life. In the fifteen years I had spent in Azkaban, I had not once enjoyed a real shower; that bit of icy cold water once in a while simply did not count. The Dementors, I figured, didn't care about smell and appearances.

Reluctantly, I turned the shower off and stepped outside, reaching for a towel. As I dried myself, I looked up to the mirror over the sink. I barely recognized myself; I was by now 69 years old and I looked it. Azkaban hadn't exactly done anything for my appearance and I tried hard to find what had once been features that I liked about myself, but it was nearly impossible. Not only did I look _old_ – I was thin. So thin, every bone in my body seemed to be showing. Hadn't he freed me, I would probably have died soon, I thought as I looked myself over. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

I groaned and reached for my clothes. Well, I would have to ask Tom to help me a bit there; my wand had been thoroughly destroyed when they had thrown me into Azkaban and I couldn't very well go around looking like that. Of course, good looks didn't seem to be a top priority these days. I wondered if Tom had ever looked in a mirror.

I exited the bathroom, taking in my surroundings for the first time. I had never stayed much at Malfoy Manor and what I had known of it had changed. Narcissa would never keep the same furniture for fifteen years. I ran a hand through deep gray hair and moved to join Tom, who had sat down in an armchair, waiting for my return from the shower.

"I need your help."

He looked up, smirking slightly, red eyes glittering with amusement. "With what exactly?"

"I don't look good. At least twenty years too old for my liking. I would do so myself, but I don't have a wand..."

"Weren't you always the one that told me it was natural to grow old-"

"I want to grow old," I answered. "I just don't want to look it."

"My, haven't we grown shallow?"

"Clearly, this is something you wouldn't understand," I bit back. "But I don't want to scare people off by just looking at me."

"Merlin, woman, show a little respect."

He sounded more amused than angry, though, and so I just rolled my eyes.

"I don't show respect to people who don't own a nose."

The smirk on his face grew slightly as he stepped closer, long pale fingers wrapped around his wand. "I'm the one responsible for how you look... you might as well find yourself without a nose."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You wouldn't dare!"

He pursed his thin lips thoughtfully. "Let's just not find out."

* * *

He had done it in the end – actually, I now looked pretty much the same I had when he had left that night. I figured he had done it out of memory. Narcissa had smiled widely at my new appearance, gushing about how lucky I had gotten to have the Dark Lord do this for me. Personally, I figured that he owed me at least that.

As I sat, moving the spoon in my soup out of sheer boredom, Lucius walked in, freezing in place as he saw me.

"L-lorraine-"

"My name," I answered, "I'll refrain from stuttering yours in turn."

He took a deep breath and sat down opposite to me. "I never knew-"

"Never knew what?" I asked, letting go of the spoon, which fell onto the plate with a loud clatter. "That I was still alive?"

He frowned uncomfortably. "Why, I just assumed..."

"Assumed it would be too much for an old woman like me. How convenient would have that been?"

He swallowed hard. "Well, I..."

"I heard you gave away the diary."

His eyes widened and he paled even more. "I-i j-just thought t-that-"

"Do stop stuttering," I snapped. "I told you to never give it away. Now it was destroyed."

He quickly licked his lip, clearly growing even more nervous.

"I'm disappointed," I stated matter-of-factly.

He opened his mouth, but I got up before he could say anything else.

"I am very disappointed. In fact, I'll see to it that you will get the proper punishment-"  
"The Dark Lord has already seen to that," he muttered, almost inaudibly.

"You are still alive," I remarked. "That means you haven't received proper punishment."

"L-lorraine-"

"Again with the stuttering," I sighed. "If nothing sensible comes out, please just shut your mouth, Lucius."

* * *

Tom was sorting through the various letters laid out in front of him. "When do you want to go out and get a wand?"

I looked up from my book, startled by the sudden question. "We'll see."

If Tom still had eyebrows, I was sure they would have risen to incredible heights. "I was going to offer you to-"

"Take care of it? Very friendly, but I'll manage."

He had taken to offer his help in any and all circumstance – which was rather confusing. It wasn't like him at all; in fact, he obviously had to have a goal or he would not have acted that way.

"There were times when you would have been more than happy to accept my help."

"There were times when I was naive enough not to question your motives."

His lips curled; he obviously wasn't pleased. "And what exactly do you think my motive is for helping you out, huh?"

"I don't know," I answered lightly. "And I don't particularly care, either."

"What if I just wanted to make sure you're okay-"

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "If you want to convince me to be on your side – you don't need to. I'm not your enemy, never was. Nothing's changed."

I got up to leave, but his long, white fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back slightly. "What's wrong with you?"

I smiled slightly. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine."

"No," he said. "No, you're different."

"It's been fifteen years, Tom," I chastised. And it had been fifteen years, fifteen long years that had appeared to be even longer...

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You never once asked how I was..."

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you well?"

"Of course I am well."

"What do you want, then?" I asked.

"That's what I mean," he said. "You don't behave like your annoying, compassionate self-"

I sighed. "I got thrown into jail for crimes I never committed. I spent years without any sign of happiness. I came to realize my faults. I am done caring about others."

* * *

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	2. Going Through the Motions

**Guys, you are so amazing. The response was huge (for my standards at least, there might be people who just laugh about that) and you made me all giddy and happy. Thanks to everyone who read, alerted and favourited and of course to the four awesome people who reviewed.**

* * *

"Don't you worry," I said, checking my appearance in the mirror.

I didn't even recognize myself; Narcissa had done a thorough job at making me unrecognizable. Now, I just had to stick to the story and hope that Ollivander wouldn't ask too many questions.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "Well, you are offering yourself up on silver platter..."

"I am not," I said. "Please, I even agreed to take one of your minions-"

"No," he growled. "You're taking the young Malfoy shopping. That's different."

"My options were limited," I bit back.

"Severus could have taken you."

"Severus is a spy," I said.

"Do you really think Lord Voldemort would allow a spy in his ranks-"

"No," I muttered. "Of course not. Forgive me."

He frowned at me as if he disapproved of my compliance. But that was what he had always wished for, wasn't it? And, looking at it like this, it was much easier than fighting him.

"Now, first you go and get that wand and then you can go get whatever else you need-"

"Sure."

"I want you able to protect yourself."

"Yes."

"Stop it!"

I raised an amused eyebrow at him. "What? Have I angered your Lordship?"

"I told you to stop it. Drop the act, Lorraine."

"There's no act, Tom. There's just no point arguing with you."

"You always saw the point before."

"Please, darling, we had that conversation." I reached out and took my cloak from the chair where I had dropped it before. "I promise you, I will be fine."

He didn't comment, just stood there; watching, as I pulled on the cloak and made to leave.

I opened the door and looked back over my shoulder. "Happy Easter, Tom."

* * *

Draco Malfoy looked very much like his father; but unlike Lucius, he didn't seem slippery. He seemed to be rather put off, though, that he had to accompany me.

His eyes wandered up and down my body and he huffed. "Not even brave enough to show your face, huh?" he sneered.

"Draco!" his mother exclaimed, but I offered them a smile.

"Well, were I fifteen, I would have better things to do, as well. So let's just, uh... get this over with."

He nodded at me and freed himself from the fluttering arms of his mother. "Until later."

Narcissa watched with wary eyes as we picked up Flew Powder and her son disappeared in the depth of the fireplace.

"You'll be careful, right? Keep both eyes on him."

"I was under the impression it should be the other way round."

"The Dark Lord certainly thinks that you can watch out for yourself. He only sends Draco so that if something happens – he's got someone to blame..."

"You shouldn't say these things," I said coldly. "And I am sure it's not true."

It was probably true. I had told Tom to properly punish Lucius – was he now sending out his son to possibly dangerous missions? That certainly was not what I had had in mind.  
I threw the powder into the flames and stepped in myself. One last look at Narcissa and I loudly announced, "Diagon Alley!"

* * *

"I really don't need you with me to buy a wand."

"I was instructed to-"

"By whom?" I snapped.

"My father told me-"

"Well, your father's word doesn't count much to mine."

Draco frowned at me and I sighed.

"Look, nothing will happen. And if it does, I want you out of the way. Got it? Leave, and get to something you're actually interested in."

"The Dark Lord wanted you protected," Draco said sternly.

"So he sent a fifth-year with me? Let's be honest here, Draco-"

"I get it, all right? I get it, I'm not stupid."

"I know," I said, taken aback. "I never said you were."

Draco looked around, the anger that just welled up still clearly visible on his features. "I won't leave you alone."

"You will. It'll be our secret."

He huffed, annoyed. "I'm not a little kid you can win over with these tricks."

"Merlin, you really are a buzz kill. See you in twenty minutes."

With that, I left him on the streets, directing my steps determinedly towards Ollivander's.

I entered, and it looked almost exactly the same that it had back when. Mr Ollivander always claimed to remember every single wand he had sold – surely, he did also remember me and my wand? My poor wand, destroyed by the Ministry's henchmen...

"Welcome."

I was pulled from my thoughts by the appearance of a definitely aged Ollivander - though his eyes were still the same. Still, they seemed to be almost glowing; it was spooky.

"Ah, Mr Ollivander, I assume?"

"Indeed." His brows were drawn together as he studied me. "You want to buy a wand?"

"Certainly," I said. "Mine broke."

"Maybe we can fix it," he said.

"No," I answered. "It was beyond repair."

"How'd it happen? May I see it?"

"You'll have to take my word for it, Sir," I said, growing impatient.

He stared at me for a moment that stretched impossibly long as I imagined that he put two and two together – a mass breakout and an unknown customer without a wand-

"Very well," Ollivander said and with a flick of his wrist, measuring tapes rolled out and started measuring my arms and fingers.

"I do not remember you," the shop-owner said casually. "You haven't bought your old wand here?"

"Inherited it from my grandmother. It was tradition in the family," I lied easily.

"But that is – no offence, Ma'am – that is not good. The wand chooses the wizard, you know, or the witch, in your case. A wand you just inherited would never work that well."

"Why, I couldn't complain."

"Uh-huh," Mr Ollivander muttered and then nodded to himself. "That should be enough."

The measuring tapes snapped shut again and Ollivander disappeared into a long row of shelves.

"You may find," he said as he emerged again, six boxes in his arms that, as a staple, reached over his head, "That a wand that specifically chose you might even work better. You might achieve bits of magic-"

"We'll see," I said, trying to end the discussion. I was sure that no wand would ever work as well as my old one had; it had been perfect. I was a firm believer that wand and wizard should learn together – I certainly had felt like it had been that way. A new wand could never fit me as well as the one that had accompanied me over decades.

"Try this one," Ollivander said, offering me the first of the staple he had dropped onto his desk. "10½ inches, holly, and core of unicorn hair-"

At once, I felt that this was not the one. It weighed too heavy in my hand and seemed to revolt even as I just held it.

"No," I said quickly putting it back into its box. "It's all wrong."

"Of course, of course," Mr Ollivander muttered. "It was too brittle, eh? You need something a little more-" He searched through the boxes and pulled out another one. "Like this."

He opened the box and handed the wand to me. "10 inches exactly – ash, and dragonheart-string... I'd say it's rather unyielding."

Again, I felt it at once. Only, this time, it was the warm, tickling feeling that told me that this could actually work.

"_Lumos,_" I muttered and instantly, the tip of the wand erupted in shining light.

"Good," I told Mr Ollivander. "This one's very good."

"I thought so," he said happily. "Well then. That makes 15 galleons."

* * *

Draco still wore that sour expression as I met him again after leaving the shop.

"See," I told him. "Nothing happened."

I motioned for him to follow me through the streets. It felt strange, being among so many people. The chatter, busy people pushing their way through the crowd, crying children and yelling mothers to match them; it felt normal. They were so _alive._ I didn't belong.

"Don't you want to go back?" Draco said, hurrying after me.

"Didn't you say you need to buy something?"

"Stock up my potions kit. Already done," he informed me.

"Oh, that sounds exciting," I commented dryly. "Come on, anything else you want to look at? Tell me about the newest brooms."

Draco pulled a face. "I'm flying a Nimbus 1001. Was the best until the Firebolt came out. Bloody Potter got one for free, of course..."

"Harry Potter, you say?"

Draco sneered. "Never paid for a broom yet. Got his first one from the school, and the second just appeared out of nowhere. Lucky beggar..."

"Uh-huh," I muttered. "Why don't you buy a Firebolt, then? Not like your folks haven't got the money."

"Nah, my father bought brooms for the whole team when I joined – said I wouldn't get a new one as of yet."

"Too bad."

Draco looked around. "Wouldn't matter anyway. If I got a Firebolt, Potter would find a way to get an even better broom. Likes showing off, he does."  
He reached into his robes and pulled out a crinkled magazine. "See, had to boast about how he escaped the Dark Lord even though no one believes him."

"What do you mean?" I asked, snatching the magazine from him.  
It was the Quibbler with a huge photograph of a teenager on top; he had messy black hair that seemed to point in every direction. Yet the most distinct part of his appearance was the lighting scar that sat on his forehead. This was him. Harry Potter. The boy who lived.

"What do you mean, Draco?" I repeated. "What do you mean no one believes him?"

* * *

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	3. The Ties That Bind

**Thanks to everyone who read, alerted, favourited and most of all to the awesome people who reviewed!**

* * *

"You made me believe," I said slowly, "That everyone was already living in panic, like they used to – you made me believe, that everyone out there was busy trying to determine who is a Death Eater and who not. You made me believe it was war again!"

"It is war," Tom answered coldly.

"No," I snapped. "No, it's not war, because no one even thinks you are back. They boy-" I let the newspaper fall in front of him. "He's telling everyone about you and no one believes him-"

"Yes, that is quite true," Tom mused. "I rather like it."

"After all these years," I said. "I still believed you had a bit of honour. Apparently I'm wrong."

"This is not about honour, Lorraine," Tom said calmly, looking up at me as I walked up and down behind the kitchen table. "This is about strategy. The longer I keep hidden, the more powerful I can become, the more allies I can gain. The more certain my victory will be."

I scoffed. "You're still scared of the boy? Well, this time, he won't have his mother to die for him. Pathetic way to win, anyway."

He smiled wryly. "I would have thought you'd be more sympathetic to him."

I sat down slowly. "I don't care about the boy. I don't care if he gets hurt, I don't care if he dies. I'm much more interested in the Ministry."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You want revenge?"

"Why, yes. You already got rid of Barty Crouch, that's great. But they all have to pay. And what about Dumbledore?"

Feigning nonchalance, Tom said, "What about him?"

"What are you doing about him? He could've helped me, but he didn't. He knew I was innocent."

"Innocent is not the word I'd use to describe you."

"You wouldn't know innocence if it hid you in the face," I said coldly, getting up. "Excuse me, then."

"Aren't you staying with me for dinner?" he called after me.

"Not hungry!" I called back, already climbing the stairs to my room.

* * *

"It would be better not to question the Dark Lord!" a sharp voice announced in the hallway. I froze, all too familiar with that voice and not liking the bearer at all.

"I'm not questioning the Dark Lord, I swear! It's just that-"

"Cissy, if the Dark Lord orders Lucius to do it, then he is to obey. There is no greater honour than to-"

I stepped into the hallway, eyebrows raised. "We all heard that already, Bellatrix. Please. You're like a parrot."

Bellatrix Lestrange was by far not as beautiful as when I had last seen her; obviously, she had also suffered from all these years of captivity. The hatred sparkling in her eyes as she saw me, though, was the same it had always been.

"Lorraine," she sneered. "What pleasant surprise."

"I wouldn't say that," I answered coldly.

She glared at me. "I didn't realize you were living here."

"I didn't realize _you_ were."

She scoffed. "I am the Dark Lord's most faithful-"

"Remember what I said about the parrot?" I interrupted her and she glared again. "Now, you were busy discussing Narcissa's problems with the plan – what's the matter?"

I did not know a thing about any plan, but I was interested. If Narcissa was worried, it clearly meant that there would be danger involved.

"Narcissa does not want her husband to obey the Dark Lord's commands-"

"I merely don't want him to get hurt!" Narcissa snapped. "Draco's still young; he needs his father-"

"Draco's almost a man," Bellatrix said haughtily. "Soon he'll be joining himself."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I said. "He's only fifteen."

"See!" Narcissa exclaimed to her sister. "Draco's just a child, if Lucius gets hurt or caught or-"

"So you want him to disobey?" Bellatrix challenged.

Narcissa swallowed hard, clearly wishing her husband would do just that, but not daring to say so.

"'Course not," she muttered instead.

"Liar," Bellatrix snapped.

"Bellatrix, please," I sighed. "Let's not argue. Lucius is a grown man, he can decide for himself what he does and what he does not do."

"How dare you end our argument?" Bellatrix screeched.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Still holding a grudge, are you, Bella? I thought now we could bond over our mutual suffering-"

"You're still a blood-traitor."

"Don't let him hear that," I advised lightly. "He doesn't like people saying that at all."

She squared her shoulders. "There'll come the day when he will cast you out and he will finally see who really always obeyed him and who always loved him and-"

"Oh, please, please," I said. "You can have him. I don't care."

"Are you trading me off?"

Bellatrix shrieked, rather undignified, and bowed deeply. Narcissa had paled even further, yet I allowed myself a small smile.

"You've been eavesdropping."

Tom came to stand next to me and he regarded his 'most faithful servant' with a sneer. "Out!" he snapped.

Bellatrix and her sister disappeared so fast, it was almost as if the ground had sucked them in.

"I would appreciate it if you were to treat me with all the due respect in front of my Death Eaters."

"Sorry," I said lightly.

"Liar," he sneered.

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me, then. What is Lucius to do?"

"We are planning ways to get into the Ministry."

I frowned at him. "Why would you want that?"

His lips curled in displeasure. "It's about the prophecy-"

"The proph- but you know about that already."

"Well, obviously, there must have been more to it. I haven't been able to kill the boy." Tom wore a very sour look by now. "I want to hear _all of it_. So we need to get it."

"So you want Lucius to go and steal the prophecy from the Ministry," I concluded. "That is madness."

"Trouble is," Tom said. "Lucius can't get it. None of them can. Because it can only be touched by those who it is about. That's me – and Potter."

"You can't go into the Ministry," I said sharply. "No one knows you're back, you don't want to blow your cover, do you?"

"That's what makes it so difficult. Dear Narcissa is obviously worried her husband will get himself caught."  
I sneered. "He would deserve it."

"I have seen to it that Lucius is properly punished. Let it go," he ordered.

I looked at him questioningly but relented. "As you say."

* * *

I was sitting in the parlour. The _Daily Prophet _was reporting on the latest match between the Chudley Cannons and Falmouth Falcons. The Malfoys' house-elf had brought in some tea and toffees. It had looked at me so hopefully I had felt compelled to smile at it. It had bustled off again, leaving me to wonder why I felt the need to be friendly to servants.

The door burst open and Lucius Malfoy strode in, looking very dishevelled but very pleased.

"Have you heard the news?"

I frowned at him and then at my copy of the newspaper. "Should I look in Good News or Bad News?"

"It's not in the Prophet yet," Lucius said, falling into an armchair across from me. "This is just in – Dumbledore is gone."

I put the paper down for good. "He's what?"

"As it turns out, Potter and his friends have participated in an illegal group of sorts. Called 'Dumbledore's Army'."

For a quick second, I stared at him, dumbfounded, then I said, "This is ridiculous. Dumbledore would never build up an army-"

Lucius smirked. "But that doesn't matter, does it? All that matters is, the Ministry decided that Dumbledore was dangerous and went to lock him up."

I straightened up and leant slightly towards him. "So he's in Azkaban?"

Lucius face fell suddenly. "Well – not exactly."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

"He managed to get out of there with that bloody bird of his," Lucius stated tiredly.

"The phoenix," I sighed. "Of course. So he's out there somewhere."

"Yes," he said darkly, but then his smiled reappeared. "But he _is_ gone. The Ministry is out searching for him and-"

"That's all very well," I said curtly. "But they'll never find him. This is Dumbledore. Meaning, now, he'll have all the time in the world to lead the Order into battle against us."


	4. Mind Games

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* * *

It was a bright summer day in June. Surely, I thought as I wandered the Malfoy grounds, there had to be other people who actually enjoyed light and warmth. Narcissa had shown the most horrified expression when I asked her to come with me for a walk. Merlin beware she should get a sunburn.  
Who else was I to ask?  
Thinking about it, I _did _enjoy my solitude. I liked myself better when I was alone. Other people made it so hard not to care... and I did not want to care. About none of them.  
I did not want to care about Tom's mad and evil plans. I did not want to care if he cared for Bellatrix.

Most of the time, I didn't.

He played on it, I was sure. Though he had always complained about any sign of morality, he was not happy now, either. He thought me to be wrong. And if things were wrong, Tom set out to fix them. Or rather bend them to his liking.  
I had no intention to let myself be bent, though.

* * *

I could almost physically feel the change of mood that had occurred in my absence. When I had left the Manor this morning, everyone had been as glum as always. For weeks now, we were at a stalemate; no one could get the prophecy but Tom, who did not want to go to the Ministry himself.  
Now, though, the mood had lightened considerably. Antonin Dolohov, who had arrived this morning looking rather sour, flashed me his brightest grin as I ran into him in a corridor.

"My, aren't you cheerful?"

"I am," he said.

"Are you going to tell me why?" I said, growing slightly impatient.

"The Dark Lord said not to tell you." He waggled his eyebrows. "Wants to make it a surprise."

I almost growled at him. "Get out of my way, Antonin."

He whistled as he left and I stepped into the parlour. There was still a small group of Death Eaters, chatting excitedly to each other. Obviously, a meeting had taken place whose members were now scattering slowly.

Tom was standing at a fireplace in the far corner, Nagini, his snake, lazily rolled up at his feet. I hated that animal. She seemed to be around all the time, observing, almost spying... And no doubt she told all of that to Tom, who was the only one to understand her after all. I had to acknowledge though, that he really did seem to care for her, which was rather unusual for him. In fact, sometimes he appeared to be almost tender.

I joined him at the fire, careful not to step on the snake.

"Lorraine," he acknowledged. Even in his usually cold voice, I could detect a glimmer of cheerfulness.

"What's put you all into such a good mood?" I inquired.

Tom's lips curled into a smile. "We've got a plan."

I raised an expectant eyebrow, but he merely smiled. "Oh, no, never mind. Don't elaborate for my sake," I sneered.

"You see," he said slowly, still smirking. "All this time, we searched for a way for me to get into the Ministry or a way to let someone else pick the prophecy up."

I motioned for him to go on.

"But now, I realized there was another way. A _better_ way."

"And what is that way, Tom? Get on with it," I said.

Tom bent down to pet Nagini. Looking up at me, he answered, "Just before Christmas, Nagini was in the Ministry, having a look around and I was with her in mind... we attacked a man. Potter knew and saved him..."

"Harry Potter knew what you were doing?"

Tom's face fell slightly. "There appears to be some form of telepathic connection. He can look into my mind. Worried, I took every step to block him. Only now have I realized the value of this connection."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't get it yet."

He straightened up again. "It's rather simple. I and Potter are the only persons who can touch the prophecy. If I can't get it, then he has to."

"Why would he do that?" I said. "And how would you get it from him?"

"We'd need a way to lure him to the Ministry – say, one of his friends is kidnapped – and get him to pick it up. My Death Eaters will be waiting for him and will take the prophecy."

"Kidnap one of his friends?" I repeated.

Tom waved one long-fingered hand dismissively. "Not really, of course. He just needs to believe it. I can plant that in his mind."

"And who?" I challenged. "Most of his friends will be in school, remember? He can check that at once. And thanks to you, he doesn't have any family you can use, either."

"Ah," he made. "But he has. Sort of. Lucius was so gracious to tell me that he spotted Sirius Black seeing the boy off at the beginning of the school year. I'm more than ready to assume that the boy would come to his godfather's rescue."

I let it all sink in for a few moments, then I concluded, "I guess that could work."

* * *

The Death Eaters were all wearing very stern, concentrated expressions. Lucius Malfoy was adjusting his mask. Bellatrix was checking her appearance in the mirror and even she seemed less confident than usual.

Tom was sitting in an armchair, watching the scene and swirling his wand lazily between his fingers. He didn't show it, but I was sure that he was on edge.

Tom was keeping track of the Potter boy's thoughts. At least that is what he told me. It seemed so surreal to me that he would be able to track the boys' thoughts across the whole country. It was the plan that Tom would keep an eye on things via this connection the whole time. Maybe it was for that reason that his minions seemed so tense.

"My lord," Bellatrix spoke up cautiously. "We are ready. Where is the boy?"

"On his way to London. He will be there soon," Tom said. "You should get going."

"Yes, my lord," she said at once, nodding to her companions.

One by one, they left the room, heading off the grounds to disapparate. I pushed from the place where I had leant against the wall. Walking to the window I watched as they marched down the front lawn.

"She's rather eager, Bella. She probably missed the fight."

"Is that understanding I hear?" he said sarcastically. "And for Bellatrix of all people."

"She's been locked up as well," I said defensively. "Deserved it more than I did, of course, but she was still locked up. I can relate to that."

Instead of answering, Tom muttered, "The boy has arrived."

"Good," I said. "Everything's going as planned."

"Not exactly," Tom growled. "I had hoped he'd play the hero and come alone. But instead, he brought friends."

"They're just children," I said. "They don't stand a chance against Death Eaters."

"Well, the Potter boy tends to surprise me in the most unpleasant way. They're going in through the visitor's entrance."

"Good," I said again. "The others should be already in the Department of Mysteries."

"I should've sent Nagini with them," Tom mused. "I could have an eye on them."

"You know, you and that snake, it's just creepy."

* * *

We sat in silence, Tom informing me every now and then of the progress. Potter and his friends took a long time even getting to the Prophecy Hall. They only reached it when Tom was already pacing impatiently in the parlour. He grew positively excited when finally, the boy picked up the prophecy. It only lasted a few minutes, though, before his face fell.

"What's going on?"

"He's escaped."

"What?" I exclaimed, jumping up. "No!"

"They're after him, he's frantic," Tom concluded. He resumed his pacing, this time clearly filled with anger.

Ten minutes passed before Tom suddenly said, "They got him."

"Yes!"

"No, something's wrong."

My eyes widened as Tom growled, "The Order."

"How would they know?" I asked. "Has he contacted them before?"

"No, I don't think so, he didn't have the time." He stood very still, concentrating hard. "They're fighting," he informed me. He resumed his pacing, his knuckles growing even whiter as he gripped his wand tightly.

Suddenly, he froze.

"What?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"It's Bella, she's running – he's going after her."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not sure, I didn't catch it," he said, striding for the door.

"Where are you going?" I exclaimed, rushing after him.

"I'm joining them."

"No, we took every step so you wouldn't have to, you'll blow your cover-"

"You don't understand," he snapped angrily. "He's separating from the others. This is my chance."

The front door flew open as he hurried outside and I followed. "If you go, I'll go to."

"No!" he ordered. "You'll stay right where you are."

"You're going to kill him, I want to see."

"Lorraine," he pressed out. "I don't have time for your petty little revenge fantasies. You are staying."

We had reached the edge of the property. Tom stepped outside, ready to turn and disapparate. Last second, I grabbed his arm before we were zipped away.

* * *

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	5. Heart of Darkness

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* * *

"Foolish woman!" Tom ground out. "I told you to stay at the Manor!"

"And I told you I wanted to come."

He glared at me, red eyes blazing. "I will deal with you later."

There was a loud shriek and just like that, his anger at me seemed to fade.

"Bellatrix," he breathed and we both started in the direction the scream had come from.

With a horrible shatter, the head of the grand wizard's statue landed on the ground.

"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?" Bellatrix screeched.

She was standing with her wand drawn, panting as her eyes darted around the atrium, looking for the boy.

"You need to mean them, Potter," she continued. "You need to really want to cause pain – to enjoy it – righteous anger won't hurt me for long - I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson-"

Turning to the edge of the fountain, she cried, "_Crucio_!"

But there was no scream of pain in return; all that happened was that the centaur's arm and bow fell off and crashed to the floor.

"Potter, you cannot win against me. I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I learned the Dark Arts from him, I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete-"

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Protego!"_

The red light of the stunning spell bounced back towards the fountain and one of the goblin's ears fell off.

With a quick nod to Tom, I moved towards Bellatrix, who had again raised her wand. "Stop it now."

"You," she sneered.

"Me," I said before calling out. "Potter, I'm going to give you one chance. Give me the prophecy and I will spare your life."

"Well," the boy's voice called. "You're going to have to kill me, because it's gone."

"What?" I called incredulously.

"And he knows!" the boy yelled with a mad laugh. "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

Bellatrix' eyes widened in fear.

"Elaborate, boy!" I demanded.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"

I rounded on Bellatrix. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! The boy-"

"You were supposed to get it from him!" I snapped at her.

Bellatrix whirled around towards the fountain again. "LIAR!" she called out to the boy. "You've got it, Potter and you will give it to me! _Accio prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"_

Again, the boy laughed and his empty hand appeared for a quick second behind the one-eared goblin. Furiously, Bellatrix sent a jet of green light flying at him.

"Nothing there!" he called. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that."

"No!" Bellatrix suddenly screamed, eyes now turned away from the fountain. Tom had stepped from his hiding place, eyes blazing even more furiously than before.

"It isn't true," Bellatrix continued hopefully, "you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED – DO NOT PUNISH ME-"

"Don't waste your breath!" yelled Potter. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?"

* * *

"So," Tom said, slowly walking towards the boy. "You smashed my prophecy? No, Bella, he is not lying... I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind... months of preparation, months of effort... and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again..."

Bellatrix was outright sobbing. "Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black! Master, you should know-"

"Quiet Bella," Tom ordered and she obeyed at once. "I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your snivelling apologies?"

"But Master, he is here – he is below-"

She caught my attention with that, but Tom paid her no mind.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. _Avada Kedavra!_"

* * *

My breath caught as the green light sirred forward – but it never reached its goal. The headless wizard's statue had sprung to live effectively pushing in between the boy and the deadly spell.

"What?" Tom screeched, staring around.

In front of the golden gates stood an old man, his wand raised and his blue eyes sparkling even in the dim light of the atrium.

"Dumbledore," I breathed.

Tom sent another jet of green light at the old man, who vanished and turned up again behind us. I whirled around only to find that the other statues were coming to live. The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screeched and tried to block it with a set of furious spells. They didn't affect the statue at all, though, and it dived and pinned Bellatrix to the ground.

"Get out!" Tom yelled at me before vanishing to avoid the centaur's statue that came running at him.

"No!" I called out as he appeared again, close to the pool. The wizard's statue had thrust the Potter boy far back from the fight about to occur.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," Dumbledore taunted. "The Aurors are on their way-"

"By which time I shall be gone and you will be dead!" Tom spat, sending another deathly spell at Dumbledore.

The old man flicked his wand; the force of the spell made me shiver as it passed me and Tom was forced to conjure a shield to deflect it.

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" he called. "Above such brutality, are you?"

"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom. Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit – why don't you join us, Lorraine?"

I stepped forward and into the circle the centaur created by cantering around them. "Good evening."

"Oh, yes, it's a nice night, isn't it?"

"Depends on how you look at it."

"Stay away from him," Tom ordered swiftly.

"But you would grant me my chance, wouldn't you?" I asked lightly, twirling my wand. "See," I said, turning to Dumbledore. "The two of us have quite an issue.

I wonder how it is that you grant Severus Snape your help, even though he is provably a Death Eater, and you won't help me."

"You have to understand," he said calmly. "That my power _is_ limited-"

"I don't care for excuses," I snapped. "You left me to rot in there for _fifteen_ years."

"I know," he said slowly. "And you have to understand-"

"I don't," I interrupted him. "I don't understand, I never will. You have no idea what it's like, not knowing a single moment of happiness for so long that you forget all about who you are-"

"You may not understand me, but I understand you," Dumbledore said calmly. "And I tell you, I did save you – Barty Crouch was more than ready to let you suffer the Dementor's Kiss."

I opened my mouth and closed it again without uttering a single sound.

"I guess we can both agree that this would be a fate worse than death, which was arguably the worst thing that could happen to you in Azkaban-"

"There is nothing worse than death," Tom snarled furiously.

"You are quite wrong," Dumbledore said, still wondrously calm. "Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness-"

Another jet of green light flew towards Dumbledore. The centaur's statue flung itself in front of the old wizard; the spell hit it squarely in the chest and it shattered into a hundred pieces.

Dumbledore whipped his wand, creating a long, thin strip of fire that wound itself around Tom.

"Tom!" I cried, but without any visible effort, he turned the rope into a snake that let go of him immediately. Hissing, it turned towards Dumbledore.

Tom's hand closed around my upper arm and he disapparated, making us appear again out of the fire line.

"Go. Grab Bella and go!" Tom ordered.

"But-" I started.

"Now," he hissed before vanishing again. He appeared again on plinth that had been home to the statues before.

I ran as fast as my legs carried me. Bellatrix was still struggling against the statue holding her down. I whipped my wand, but the statue would not budge; I whirled around to see Dumbledore vanishing the attacking snake with ease.

"TOM!" I yelled. "HELP!"

He turned slightly towards me before suddenly the water rose, covering him like in a cocoon.

"Tom!" I yelled again.

Then he was gone and the water fell with the loudest splash, overflowing onto the floor.

"Master!" Bellatrix called out, the fright so very obvious in her voice.

The boy struggled to run past the statue guarding him, but Dumbledore ordered him to stay back. I looked around frantically – surely, he would not have left? He would not have fled and left me to the mercy of our enemies-?

Just then, the boy started screaming as though he was slaughtered right on the spot; Dumbledore gave a soft cry of despair and hurried towards him. With that, the statue flopped to the side, finally freeing Bellatrix who jolted upwards at once.

"Master?" she called again, but to no use. He was nowhere in sight, there was just the screaming boy and his headmaster-

"We got to go," I said sharply, tugging on her arm.

"No, I'm not leaving the Dark Lord, he-"

"He ordered us to go, Bella," I growled. "He will be fine-"

"Who are you?" she asked, looking at me almost disgustedly. "I thought you loved him."

I opened my mouth to retort, but I never got to do it. Across the hall, the boy started talking; but he did not sound like himself. It was surreal to hear that cold, high voice sounding from the boy's lips.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore. If death means nothing, then kill the boy..."

"Tom," I whispered, starting towards the pair.

I got to about the middle of the atrium before, my arms were suddenly seized.

"I told you to leave." He reached for Bella, grabbing her arm as well and with a final turn, he took us away.

* * *

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	6. Haunted

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* * *

Furiously, I rounded on Bellatrix. "I just can't believe you left them!"

"The Order was defeating them, one by one, and _I_ had the chance to off Potter at last-"

"Liar," I hissed. "You went and saved yourself and left the others to deal with their own fate! What about Lucius? What about Rod?"

Several of the on-looking Death Eaters looked away uneasily. Narcissa Malfoy started weeping quietly into her handkerchief.

Bellatrix sneered at the mention of her husband. "They're useless if they can't win against-"

"You didn't win, either!" I snarled. "You fled and had to be rescued by your master."

Her eyes immediately turned to the floor. I huffed in annoyance and crossed my arms. "And here I was, thinking that Slytherins at least stick up for their own. Obviously, I was wrong. They're just cowards."

"I beg to differ." Tom walked in, his voice suspiciously calm.

"Master!" Bellatrix gasped, throwing herself at his feet. "Please, you have to forgive me, I couldn't do anything, I-"

"Quiet!" he snapped, silencing her at once. "I have put my trust in you. I trusted you to bring me the Prophecy."

"Master, please, Lucius was-"

"You are quite right, of course," Tom said thoughtfully.

I looked at him curiously and saw the same expression of wonder on several others.

"Why don't we all sit?" Tom said, proceeding to take his seat at the head of the table.

Stiffly, I sank into my chair next to Alecto Carrow, who was an especially unlikable woman.

"It is true," Tom began. "I have put my trust into the wrong people, it seems. Lucius Malfoy led a large number of Death Eaters into capture, and in doing so, he failed to deliver what he set out to get: A powerful weapon essential to my plans."

The group erupted into mutters, apart from Narcissa, who was shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Silence," he ordered. "Of course, this failure cannot go unpunished. Narcissa, dear-"

"Please, my Lord!" she said at once, fighting hard to contain her tears. "Lucius is already imprisoned, he is suffering for his crimes-"

"Well that does not replace the Death Eaters he lost me, does it?"

She shivered under his angry glare and carefully shook her head.

"See, it is quite simple. Young Draco will have to fill in for his father."

Narcissa started begging piteously while most Death Eaters looked on with malicious joy.

"Isn't there another way?" I asked loudly.

Heads turned and eyes widened while Tom very slowly focused on me. "No."

I squared my shoulders. "May I have a word?" I said. "In private."

* * *

We were wandering the grounds, both silent, both waiting for the other one to start conversation. It was ironic, I thought, that I had wished for someone to accompany me; and now that he did just that, I wished I could just be alone.  
But my personal sensitivities did not matter now. We had more important things to discuss.

"It's not the boy's fault," I said as we passed a set of rose bushes. "Nor is it his mother's. It's unjust to punish the two of them."

"Tell me, how am I supposed to punish Lucius when he is locked away?"

I stopped abruptly. "Then don't – Merlin knows, being in Azkaban is punishment enough!"

"That's what you say."

"That's what I know – anyone can tell you that. Why don't you ask your most loyal servant, huh? Oh, no, wait, we all know her answer." Putting on a shrill voice, I imitated, "_It is an honour to serve the Dark Lord, no matter what the task!_"

Resuming his walk, Tom answered, "I really have no idea why this is object to your ridicule."

"Me neither," I sneered. "Tom, leave the boy alone."

"No."

"He's just a child!" I said hotly.

"Why do you care?" he asked, turning around to face me again.

"Because I pity everyone who falls victim to your wrath," I snapped.

"No," he said softly, stepping towards me. "Why do you _care_?"

I straightened up. "I don't _care_."

"Yes, yes, you do. You care. You've got your fight back and your sass. Battling for the rights of the innocent-"

"I – don't – care," I said slowly, stressing every word.

He cocked his head to the side. "The only question is – what made you care again?"

I glared at him, the anger flaring up. "Oh, I don't know – maybe I care that we've lost people that I almost liked. Maybe I care that you were very close to losing to Dumbledore that night. Maybe I just care about your well-being." By now, tears had gathered in my eyes. "Maybe I care, because after all these years, I still can't hate you, no matter how many reasons you give me or how much I want to. You can even put the boy in danger – a mere child – just to punish his father. I have no doubt you'd like him to be killed. And I should hate you. But I can't. I just can't."

He stared, obviously taken aback by my sudden outburst; or maybe just because emotions were something so very foreign to him.

"I care," I said slowly. "'Cause I care about you. After all this time, I still haven't given up hope, that you might do a decent thing at least once."

He watched me closely for a second, then he turned towards the house again. "I won't change my decision."

I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back that threatened to spill. "Have mercy."

"Mercy is for the weak," he said coldly. "And I am not weak."

* * *

I grabbed the boys' arm and pulled him into the library, shutting the door behind him.

"What the hell?" Draco exclaimed, but I was busy locking and silencing the door.

"Who are we hiding from?"

"Who are we not hiding from?" I retorted, leaning against the closed door. "He's not going to like what I'll tell you right now."

"And what would that be?" Draco challenged, stepping forward. "Why are you bothering me?"

"I'm sure you've heard the news-"

"I'm going to be a Death Eater," Draco said at once, gray eyes sparkling with excitement.

My eyebrows furrowed at the obvious glee in his voice. They boy was actually proud!

"I don't think you realize what's going to happen. Or why the Dark Lord is doing this."

His eyes narrowed at me. "He has to replace the Death Eaters he's lost in the Ministry."

"Right. Tell me, Draco – who gets blamed for that loss?"

He looked at me plainly. "I – I don't know. Potter?"

"Your father," I said. "The Dark Lord blames your father. And he wants him to pay. Well, your father's in Azkaban..."

"So, what are you suggesting? That granting me this honour is actually punishment?" he said, clearly not believing me.

"Yes," I snapped. "He'll make you do some desperate mission that'll get you killed. It'll be the next best thing since he can't get to your father."

Draco swallowed hard. "I will not die. I'm not stupid. I can look out for myself."

"I suggest you do just that," I said. "I suggest you run – tonight, if you want. I'll make sure you get away. Go into hiding. Merlin, even ask Dumbledore for shelter. Just _get away_."

The boy merely rolled his eyes at me. "He'll have my mother."

I stared for a moment, then I regained composure. "Take her with you."

"This is nonsense," Draco said firmly. "I'm not going to die."

"Draco, please," I said. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you're too young-"

"What do you care?" he snapped viciously.

I winced. What did I care, in fact. "Listen, boy. I knew your grandfather and he was a likeable enough man. I've seen your parents grow up – your mother's done so much for me in the past months alone. 'Sides, I like you well enough. You're clever, you're proud, you're loyal. You've done nothing to deserve this. None of your family has. But you will all suffer terribly if you go through with this. You need to _get away_."

His eyes met mine so firmly, I wondered if he really was as naive as I thought. "Thank you for your advice," he said politely. "But I'm old enough."

With that, he flicked his wand at the lock, snapping the door open, and left.

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	7. Memories

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and a special, special thanks to everyone who reviewed - though, seriously, guys. Is Draco all you care about? :D If I ever write a story about Draco, my views are probably going to explode...**

* * *

"Focus, boy!" Bellatrix snapped furiously. "You're making it far too easy."

"I'm trying!" Draco bit back, just as angry.

For the past hour, Bellatrix had tried to teach him Occlumency – but until now, he hadn't accomplished anything. She broke into his mind time and time again with little to no resistance.

"_Legilimens_!" she shrieked.

Draco gritted his teeth but soon, his face went blank and Bellatrix lowered her wand. "You're a liar, Draco. You're not even trying."

"It's pointless, okay? I can't do it!"

I sighed, putting my book away for good now. They probably knew I was watching, anyway.

"'Course you can."

"How would you now?" the boy sneered.

"Anyone can do it. Do you have a technique?"

"I-"

"I told him to focus, on building up the wall," Bellatrix snapped.

"Right. But with what does he build? See, what I do, is I choose a memory. Something solely positive. And I pull it to the surface, concentrate on that one thing."

"I can't stop in a battle to just remember any happy little thought," Draco said. "That's bullshit."

"Language," I scolded. "I'm aware that it's not practical in battle. But as you improve, as you learn, this technique becomes an automatism. You won't have to concentrate on it."

Bellatrix was glaring at me but I raised my hands defensively.

"I'm just trying to help," I told her. "You do what you want."

She huffed and turned to her nephew again. "Try it."

* * *

"It appears the Malfoy boy has finally mastered the art of Occlumency."

I did not bother to turn and look at Tom; every word he uttered about the boy rang as mockery in my ears.

"Quite a nice little trick he uses. One of yours?"

"The least I can do is optimizing his chances, however slim they may be."

"Maybe he'll surprise us," Tom mused. "Maybe he'll live."

"But you don't want that," I said. "And Merlin knows, you always get what you want."

"That I do," he said coldly. "Won't you look at me?"

"What will I see?" I asked lightly. "The man I used to love is gone."

"Oh, don't be bitter," he sneered. "You've met me. You know how I am. I've always been this way."

I scoffed, finally facing him. "I wouldn't love you if you'd always been that way."

"You're pathetic," he said, the tone of his voice freezing.

"No, I'm not," I said swiftly.

Red eyes narrowed at me, but I held my head high. I was sick and tired of being pushed around. No more.

"If you'll excuse me..."

"Where are you going?" he demanded as I walked towards the door.

I smiled at myself at the instinctive idea that shot through my head at his words. "I'm going home."

* * *

My grandmother's house still stood, isolated and decrepit, but otherwise the same it had always been. It had been fifteen years since I had last been here. Tom had occupied this house more than I had, and it used to be populated by the whispering, chattering and the occasional cursing of his Death Eaters.

Nevertheless, this was my home; my own place. They had not sold it off and I was more than glad about it. Why had it taken me so long to think of this place?

I pushed open the rotten gate and stepped onto my property. I took a deep breath and felt the grin spread on my face. Safe and sound, that's how I felt here. I reached out and opened the front door. It creaked loudly and I winced, hurrying to look around. But no one was around. I stepped inside the dark, dusty place and looked around.

Nothing had changed. Everything was in exactly the place it had been all those years ago when they had come to get me. I waved my wand, dusting off a few shelves. If I remained silent, inconspicuous, I could stay here for a while. I could be free for a while.

* * *

Scrambled eggs were sizzling in the pan and the warm smell of coffee filled the room. I was humming to myself, searching around for the plates. An act that had once been so natural now proved to be rather difficult. Where were the damn things?

"Second door to the right."

I whirled around, my heart stopping for a hot second. My eyes widened as I took in the old, calm man sitting on my kitchen stool. Albus Dumbledore seemed perfectly content being where he was, right there, in my house.

"What-?"

"The second to the right. The plates, that's what you were searching for, wasn't it?"

I took a deep, steadying breath and turned around to open the storage he had indicated. It contained the plates, all right and I reached up to grab two.

"I figure you're inviting yourself to breakfast."

"Oh, I wouldn't say no," Dumbledore said merrily. "Very nice of you to ask."

"I haven't," I said placing the plate before him. "You know, I was enjoying my peace and quiet."

"We are not in a peaceful time," Dumbledore mused as I turned to grab the pan. "We are at war."

"People keep telling me that," I said, pushing half of the eggs onto his plate. "And I keep wondering why that should concern me. Because, frankly, it doesn't."

"It concerns all of us, it appears," Dumbledore said calmly. "You, especially, because of your very special bond to Lord Voldemort."

"I have no relations to Lord Voldemort whatsoever," I told him. "And as you can see, even me and Tom are not at a good place right now."

"You realize he won't let you leave for good?"

"You realize that if he thought I'd left him for good, we wouldn't be having this conversation?" I retorted.

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully, deep blue eyes sparkling. "He still shows a rather curious amount of protectiveness for you. It's very uncharacteristic."

I did not bother to answer and instead turned to pour myself a cup of coffee.

"I've come to ask you a favour," Dumbledore said.

"I was wondering when you'd get to the point," I said, facing him again. "What is it?"

"I need a memory."

"Any little one? I would like to get rid of some."

"Ah, I was hoping for a rather specific one," he said, leaning forward. "A memory concerning Tom."

"What?" I said, sitting down at the other side of the table. "Are you writing a biography?"

"Not exactly. I was wondering if he ever mentioned Horcruxes to you."

I gulped, forcing my face to remain plain. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"It is important. I seek to confirm my theory, you see-?"

"I have absolutely nothing to contribute," I said forcefully. "And now I must ask you to leave my house."

"You know," he said calmly. "You know what he did to his soul. And you know that he has to be stopped. You're a good person, Lorraine."

"Which is why I would never betray the man I love. Out," I snapped.

He got up, nodding at me. "Well, I am disappointed," he said. "But I understand."

"The disappointment is mutual," I assured him.

"Lorraine, I beg you to understand that it was never my wish to harm you," he said gravely.

"Harm didn't stay away nevertheless," I said. "Have you ever been incarcerated in Azkaban? I can't recommend it."

"I am deeply sorry," he said.

He was honest, I could tell. Of course he was. This was Albus Dumbledore. It did not make my task of forgiving any easier.

"You were about to leave," I reminded him. "I beg you to do it."

He offered me a smile that dripped off wisdom and gentleness. "Take care, Miss Riley."

"And you," I muttered.

He nodded lightly and strode out the door. I watched out of the window as he walked calmly down the front yard as if he did not have a care in the world. He passed the crooked gate; he turned his head slightly towards the house, smiling as if he knew that I was watching him. Then, he was gone.


	8. Nasty Habits

**So, first, I'm a day late. Sorry 'bout that. Secondly, also sorry that this is so much of a filler... my outline literally said "a filler". I think I need to think about my outlines again...**

**Anyway, thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and to the amazing people who reviewed. **

* * *

The sun was shining, the birds were singing; it was an all around nice day. I should have known it would not last.

Of course, the reason for this idyll's destruction was once again an unwelcome visitor. Tom appeared around midday, fuming as he so often was.

"Lorraine," he ground out as he saw me, sitting in the parlour, the warm summer breeze drifting in through the opened window. "Finally."

"You found me," I stated. "I used to be better at hide-and-seek."

Red eyes blazing, he made the window snap shut in his fury. My gaze travelled from the vibrating glass to his hardly controlled figure.

"Why, there's no need to lose control, Tom."

"You left me," he hissed.

"I needed some time to myself," I said swiftly. "If I had left you, you wouldn't have found me so easily."

"I would never let you get away," he sneered.

"That, I don't doubt," I muttered. I got up and walked up to him, gingerly placing my hands on either side of his face. "I'm not leaving you," I stated calmly.

"You'll come home with me again."

"I am home," I said, stepping back again cautiously.

"Lorraine," he breathed impatiently, but the relative calmness did not fool me.

"Repeating my name won't make it any better," I said. "I'm not going back to Malfoy Manor."

He took a deep, shuddering breath that did not appear to calm him at all.

"You are coming back."

"No, I'm not," I said steadily.

"I want you to-"

"But _I_ don't want to," I snapped. "In that house, spending every minute with either you or one of your deluded minions. I feel trapped, it's suffocating."

"I'm suffocating?" he said incredulously and I groaned in exasperation.

"A tad," I said sarcastically. "Not to mention completely mental."

"So," he said slowly. "You _are_ leaving me."

I opened my mouth to deny it, but at the anger that he stirred in me, I decided against it. If he would just suffer a titbit of what I suffered through day by day-

"And what if I am?"

His red eyes narrowed to slits and I watched his fists clench. I took an involuntary step back at his expression. At that, I heard glass cracking and swiftly turned my head to see the window glass breaking.

"Tom," I breathed.

He reached out and forcefully grabbed my wrist, pulling me abruptly to him.

"Tom," I repeated. "I won't leave you, all right, I won't-"

"You're right," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"Darling, please, I never meant to leave you, I promise-"

"What now?" he sneered. "Are you trying to make up for your betrayal by resorting to nicknames?"

I stared, additionally confused by the pain from his bruising grip. Did he honestly believe that I would betray him? Leave him? How could he? How dare he?  
With all my force, which definitely contained a bit of loose magic, I freed myself and pushed him back, glaring at him.

"You fool," I said. "Has history taught you nothing? I don't leave you. I don't betray you. In fact, running back to you is a nasty habit I have had my whole life. And here you go. This is exactly the reason that I want to stay here."

We stared at each other, both breathing heavily.

"I want you to go," I said finally. "I want to be alone."

"There we go," he said softly. "Now you kick me out."

"Exactly," I said. "Apparently, I do keep doing this."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "What do you mean?"

I considered telling him of Dumbledore's visit. Faced with his fury and his delusion, though, I did not feel like trading information at all.

"Nothing," I said decisively. "Leave."

"When will you return?"

"I don't know," I answered. "But I have no doubt you won't let me forget about you."

* * *

Much like when he had returned so many years ago, he did not leave me alone. Tom turned up at the most unusual times and whenever it suited him with little consideration to my liking of it whatsoever.

It was hard for him to comprehend, I assumed, that I did not want to stay in the Manor anymore. I very much enjoyed my freedom, now, even though I always had to be careful. I did not want the neighbours to spot me, afraid that someone might report me to the Ministry.

It was odd, I thought sometimes, how calm life in my house was, compared to the disaster unfolding around it.

* * *

"Evenin'," I greeted merrily, stepping into the Malfoy's parlour.

Narcissa Malfoy jumped up frantically and rushed towards me. "Oh, Lorraine, Lorraine, it's so good to have you back, we waited for you to return, in fact we-"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I advised, smiling at her. "I'm only here to see T- the Dark Lord. Is he in?"

"I'm – I'm afraid he's not here yet."

"But he'll be?" I inquired.

"Uh – I don't – he didn't-"

"I see," I said, attempting to put a stop to her rambling. "Then I guess I'll wait. How about you offer me a drink?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Oh, yes, of course – firewhiskey?"

"Excellent," I said with a smile.

I walked further into the room and sat down on the couch. Narcissa appeared to be even paler than she usually was, I observed as I watched her prepare the drink. She handed me the glass and sank down in an armchair close to me.

"Are you going to move back in?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I quite enjoy my solitude."

She nodded shakily. "I understand."

"Tell me then," I said after taking a sip. "How's Draco doing?"

She pulled a face. "I don't think... he's not come far."

"Why, it is a desperate task."

She sniffled, trying to hide it by gulping down quite a bit of her drink. "I am afraid he won't succeed."

I sighed heavily. "I wish I could help," I told her honestly. "But there's nothing I can do."

"Thanks," she whispered. "I appreciate it."

"What's there to appreciate?"

We both looked up, causing Narcissa to pale and me to put my glass down. Tom was standing in the door way, giving the impression to tower over us even as he only stood at the edge of the room.

"Milord," Narcissa breathed, darting up from her place once again.

"Leave us," Tom ordered and Narcissa rushed out the door, squeezing past him in her hurry. Sent out of the room in her own house.

"You here," Tom said as she had left. "Normally, I have to come for you-"

"You haven't been around about a week, I was starting to grow concerned."

"Touching," he sneered.

"I knew you'd like it," I said with a smirk. "Listen – I was wondering about Christmas."

"I don't have time for Christmas," he said swiftly.

"Everyone has time for Christmas. And if they don't, they take it. I was thinking, I'm making dinner and-"

"How domestic," he drawled. "I don't think I'll make it."

"That's really very sad," I told him before getting up. "I'll go home then. I'm rather tired."

"You could stay of course," Tom offered.

"How domestic," I mocked. "I don't think I will."

"What? Trying to blackmail me?"

"No, not all. Just you don't want to come for Christmas. I don't want to stay tonight. Mere coincidence."

Our eyes met, red eyes boring into mine. "Really?"

I shrugged. "Your choice."

"Fine then. How about a compromise?"

I gasped in mock astonishment. "My, words I never dreamed to hear from the great Lord Voldemort."

"Lorraine," he growled.

I gestured for him to continue. "Please. Name your price."

"We're celebrating Christmas here."

I considered him for a moment before finally nodding. "All right. But we really celebrate. You don't turn this into a Death Eater celebration of misery."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Deal."

"Deal," I confirmed. "You know what... thinking about it, maybe I do want to stay tonight."

* * *

**You know, reflecting on it, I think there _was_ a point to this chapter. Agree? Disagree? Tell me in a review ;)**


	9. The Next Great Adventure

**Thanks to my amazing reviewers and welcome new friends! As I'm on the train all day tomorrow, I decided to update a little early rather than a little late. Chapter 9 already! Enjoy.**

* * *

Tom kept his promise concerning Christmas. In fact, over the next months, he kept every single promise he gave me – though he never gave them without a fight. Stay tonight. Stay over the weekend. Attend this or that meeting. I always had to pay. I did not mind, though, not much. He let me stay where I was, after all, with which I was more than content.

It appeared that the Malfoy boy had no luck, though. Whenever I met Narcissa, she appeared to be even paler and even more worried.

That was, until an evening in mid-June, when I decided to stop by to check on the situation. Narcissa looked much better, smiling brightly at me.

"You're in a good mood," I said, surprised.

"Indeed. We've gotten the best of news! Draco repaired the Vanishing Cabinet!"

My smile froze. "Did he?"

"Yes. Now all that's left to do."

"Is to kill Albus Dumbledore. You're right. The hardest part is done."

Her smile turned rather cold as well. "Why are you so negative?"

"I'm not negative, I'm realistic. Draco's not out of danger."

She sighed, looking tiredly at the floor. "Severus has promised me-"

"And will he act against the Dark Lord's wishes?" I challenged. "I think not."

Apart from the fact that I _did_ think that. I did not trust Severus Snape. I had seen him that night, had seen the sorrow, the devastation and the hatred for the man that had caused it all. No one could forget that.

"He will do what's best for Draco," Narcissa insisted. "He _promised_."

* * *

Severus Snape bowed deeply before his master, greasy hair shielding his face from view.

"You have not followed my orders," Tom stated coldly.

"Milord, there was no other way. The boy could not have done it."

I saw the sneer on Yaxley's face, but the man did not object. Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, was cowering in the far corner, pale and thin as if he had been ill for a very long time. In a way, I thought, he had been.

"Is that so?" Tom breathed, turning to the boy.

I watched Draco shuddering as Tom advanced on him.

"I think, I ordered you to kill Albus Dumbledore, Draco... have you failed me?"

"Milord, I-"

"Do you deny that you failed me?"

"I – no," he whispered.

Tom's eyes narrowed dangerously and I reached out to grab his wand-arm. "Don't," I told him.

"He failed. He will face punishment."

"He's been punished enough," I said forcefully.

He glared at me but I held my ground. I would not let him kill the boy, not now, not ever.

"I ask you for mercy," I said. "Because today is a day of victory. And we should celebrate, not punish."

I gave him an out and the two of us both knew it. Having announced his punishment, he could not back down without a proper excuse. But this, this excuse, was good enough in my opinion.

Albus Dumbledore was dead. Killed on the highest tower of his own school, by one of his most trusted teachers. Snape had done as he had promised and stepped in for Draco.  
I didn't feel much like celebrating Dumbledore's death. But if it saved the boy, I would smile and pretend and be the happiest, most submissive version of myself.

Tom's eyes wandered from me to the boy and he nodded almost unperceivably.

"You are right," he said. "Tonight we shan't dwell on unpleasantries. We shall celebrate."

I watched as Draco took in a shuddering breath of relief. "Thank you, Milord," he whispered.

"You are lucky Lorraine has a soft spot for children," Tom added coldly.

Draco flushed while the other Death Eaters erupted in cruel laughter. Tom turned his back on the boy, our eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds before he moved to join his Death Eaters, who had suddenly produced several bottles and glasses.

I offered my hand to Draco as to help him up, but he merely glared.

"Leave me alone."

"Don't be stupid, Draco. In this war, we have to take every ally we can get."

His lip curled and he got to his feet. "I don't need your help; I don't need your advice. I just want you to get off my case and leave me alone."  
He turned around and briskly walked out of the room.

* * *

"How do I look?" I inquired.

"Too much like yourself."

I rolled my eyes at Tom who was watching me sceptically. "I look nothing like myself."

There was only one way that I could get away with what I planned – if I made myself unrecognizable. It would not do if people kept recognizing me from the paper, or worse, from real life. Especially today was not a good day for this.

"Won't you trust me on this? I see you every day," Tom grumbled

"You're a man who has neither hair nor a nose," I said. "It gives me a pause."

"I don't know why you're doing this, anyway," he said, irritated.

"I am paying my respects to one of the greatest wizards of our time," I told him, at least as annoyed. I played for him all day when his minions were around, I pretended to be happy, to be proud of our success. At least between the two of us, I wanted to drop the act. Just the way it had always been.

He huffed, even angrier. "He let you rot in prison for over a decade."

"He's dead, Tom," I said. "We mustn't hold grudges anymore. Let bygones be bygones."

"There are no bygones so far as Dumbledore is concerned," he growled. "You celebrated his death, how can you grieve it now?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I never celebrated."

I turned to the mirror once more and smoothed over my black dress before checking on the time. It was time to return to Hogwarts and pay my respects to its greatest headmaster.

* * *

They had set up hundreds of chairs by the lake; row by row was filled with funeral guests. Many seemed to be actually sad. The first row, though, was filled by a delegation of the Ministry of Magic. If their grieving was real, my name was Morgan le Fay.

I sat down in the far back, close to the lake's shore. I only listen half-heartedly to the reception, too preoccupied with my own thoughts.

On the one hand, I really was happy.  
I had never forgiven Dumbledore for not helping me back then. He had been a great threat to Tom and had forced us to face problem after problem.  
On the other hand, Albus Dumbledore was dead, this kind man, this wise man, this brilliant man; my favourite teacher of ancient times.

"Excuse me," a voice suddenly mumbled and a boy pushed past me through the row.

I sat, stunned into silence by the sudden appearance. There was no way I could mistake the messy black hair and the round glasses; Harry Potter had just stumbled into me. I stared up at him, my hand closing around my wand inside my robes. One move, two words and this could all be over-

"Sorry, Ma'am," he said, apologizing again. "Did you know him well?"

"What?" I breathed. "Why?"

"You're crying," he said and my first thought was that it was a little hypocritical seeing as his eyes were not exactly dry, either. Then, of course, his words sank in, and I quickly attempted to brush the tears away with the back of my hand.

"Feels like I did," I said. "But I doubt I really knew him."

The boy nodded as though he knew exactly what I meant. "I... I feel the same way."

"Dear boy, he was only your teacher," I said.

"And how did you know him?"

"He...," I interrupted myself and allowed myself a small smile. "He used to be my teacher."

The boy gave a dry laugh which would have probably come out as joyous had the mood not been so grave.

"Well," he muttered. "Have a- never mind."

He continued his path until I decided to call after him. "Hey – you're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

He froze and pulled a face. "Yeah. Why?"

"Good luck," I said.

He walked off and I looked after him, still incredulous. Harry Potter had just stood before me, had talked to me and I had – done nothing. I had let him go. Tom would kill me.

* * *

**There you go! I don't know if I'll manage to write a little Christmas one-shot - so many things to do, so little time. Just in case, I wish you all merry Christmas, may God bless you and enjoy the holidays! **


	10. Broken

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed :) (Forbidden Moons - you would? xD)**

**Also, this is a good time to remind you that I don't own anything, especially not any original dialogue. Go figure.**

* * *

Tom's gentle fingers where ghosting up and down my arm while his lips caressed my neck. I tilted my head to the side to grant him easier excess, a tiny moan of pleasure escaping me as he nibbled on my earlobe. His free hand gripped my waist and he drew me closer to him.

"Tom," I whispered breathlessly as his lips travelled down my neck again, smooth and persistent as he gently sucked on my pulse-point. The pleasurable feeling was disrupted, though, by a sudden slippery, flittering feel and it took me a second to realize what I felt licking over my neck now.

I harshly pulled away to turn around, but it was not Tom I saw; it was his horrible snake, even larger and more terrifying than normally. Its split tongue darting outside quickly before it opened its mouth, revealing huge, sharp fangs.

I screamed.

I jolted awake, suddenly upright in my bed.

Or rather, his bed.

Panting heavily, I turned to look at his sleeping form. He looked as peaceful as he possibly could, right there on the pillow next to me. No snake, just Tom.

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to catch my breath, trying to figure out what had just happened. I was not the type for nightmares. Even in Azkaban, at the darkest of times, I had not had nightmares. I vaguely remembered that when I had worn the locket for Tom, dreams had plagued me at night; but even then, it had merely been memories, pouring into me through the Horcrux.

This, now, was totally uncharacteristic.

"You all right?"

I turned to him again and saw Tom propping himself up on his elbows.

"Go back to sleep," I advised. "It's the middle of the night."

"Then why are you up?" he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Any other time, I might have felt a bit of triumph and satisfaction that I got to see this side – the unprepared, sleepy, almost vulnerable side of him – this side that Bellatrix Lestrange so desperately longed to see.  
Today, though, the memory of my dream weighed to heavy on my mind.

"Just a bad dream," I said. "Nothing to worry about."

He sighed, then reached out to pull me down again. Tugging me to his side, his eyes closed again. For a quick second, I tensed, wondering if I might just have woken up to another nightmare.  
But this was no Muggle horror movie. This was my reality.

* * *

It had been a long time since I had seen Narcissa Malfoy give a true smile. Now, though, it could not have been more genuine. Right she was, I thought. Today was obviously a day of celebration.

Lucius Malfoy kissed his wife and hugged his son with obvious glee. He was not the only one.

Tom had decided that he had gone long enough without his loyal followers. As swiftly as he had decided, he had broken them out. Azkaban was really not much of the fortress it was said to be.

It was a little bit ironic, I thought, that Rodolphus Lestrange was the first to greet me, while Bellatrix merely stood sneering, not moving an inch towards her husband.

"Hey," he said, hugging me quickly.

"Hey – how are you?"

"Been better," he admitted. "But I'll be fine."

"Good," I said, nodding at him.

He stepped past me to finally greet his wife and I walked over to Lucius Malfoy, who had parted from his son and was now chatting with Snape.

"Lucius," I said. "A word."

His eyes flickered to me and he quickly nodded. Snape did not seem thrilled, but turned around and left us without any protest.

"Are you all right?" I asked cautiously.

"I'm getting there," he muttered.

I nodded. "Look... you need to have an eye on Draco, yes? Cause Narcissa can't protect him and he won't let me, anymore."

"He's my son," Lucius said, obviously offended. "I always-"

"You've done a poor job of it, so far. Make it better," I told him. "I'm counting on you."

"What do you care?" he bit out.

"I just do, what's it to you?"

He pulled a face but did not object any more. I nodded at him and then turned away to join Tom, who was sitting in an armchair in the far corner, smugly observing the scene.

"We'll have a meeting tomorrow," Tom informed me as I joined him.

"Have fun, then," I said, sitting on the armrest.

"I want you to attend."

"I don't attend Death Eater meetings," I told him coldly. "I don't belong."

"Yes, you do," he growled. "You belong right at my side. People are talking."

"I'm sure you can stop them."

"Lorraine," he said warningly. "You'll attend."

I sighed. "When will you understand that I don't want anything to do with your dealings and-"

"When I say you attend, you will attend," he hissed. "Have I made myself clear?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but the dangerous glimmer in his eyes suggested that today was not the day to pick fights. "Crystal," I said.

"Good. We'll meet at nine in the evening," he informed me. "Don't be late."

"I'll do my very best," I assured him sarcastically.

Tom glared. "Don't embarrass me."

"I never do," I reminded him coldly.

He huffed. "I'll take your word for that."

"You're in a mood," I noted.

"Yes. Keep away from Lestrange."

For a moment, I stared at him incredulously, then I smiled wildly. He did not seem to quite understand my amusement, but I did not bother to explain. I just leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"I could tell you the same thing," I said before getting up and joining the others again.

* * *

I entered Malfoy Manor, just to see the Carrow siblings dragging up a limb figure from the basement.

"Hey," I called out. "Who's that?"

Amycus Carrow cackled madly. "They say she taught _Muggle Studies_."

"Poor excuse of a witch, too."

"She's a teacher," I exclaimed incredulously. "What are you doing with her?"

They ignored me and dragged her away, towards the drawing room. I followed hurriedly, dread filling me.

"Lorraine," Tom greeted me as I entered. He was already sitting at the head of the table and looked on as the Carrows levitated the unconscious body of the woman over the table.

"What are you doing?" I inquired again.

"That is Professor Charity Burbage," he informed me good-naturedly. "She's tonight's entertainment."

I contemplated how much it would cost me to tell him how disgusted I was. Considering the audience we had, though, I decided that it would not be a smart move. So I remained silent and stiffly sank into a chair at the left side of Antonin Dolohov.

I found that the Malfoys were sitting right across from me. Draco, as pale as ever, worriedly glanced up at Charity Burbage's figure. It took me a moment to realize that he probably knew the woman, given that she was a Hogwarts teacher. I sent him a sympathetic look, but his features hardened and he looked away.

The door opened again and I looked up to see who had entered. Snape and Yaxley were standing in the doorway, both looking up to the woman in the air with stoic faces.

"Yaxley. Snape," Tom greeted. "You're very nearly late."

The two men's eyes darted from Charity Burbage to him at once and then their gaze dropped, probably out of a mixture of fear and obedience.

"Severus, here," Tom said, indicating a seat to his right. "Yaxley, next to Dolohov."

Yaxley walked over and sat down on the other side of Dolohov while Snape sat down next to Tom.

"So?"

"Milord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall."

I stiffened at that news while several others twitched and fidgeted.

"Saturday at nightfall," Tom mused. "This information comes-"

"From the source we discussed," Snape informed curtly.

"Milord," Yaxley said suddenly. "Milord, I have heard differently." He paused, obviously waiting for Tom to say something, but he remained silent. Yaxley swallowed and continued. "Dawlish, the Auror, let it slip that Potter will not be moved before the thirtieth. The night before the boy turns seventeen."

Snape smiled coldly. "My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail. That must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm must have been placed upon Dawlish."

"A Confundus Charm?" I repeated with raised eyebrows. "Upon an Auror?"

Snape's cold black eyes met mine. "It would not be the first time; he is known to be susceptible."

"I assure you, Milord," Yaxley said quickly. "Dawlish seemed quite certain."

"If he has been Confounded," Snape said lazily. "Naturally he is certain. I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"They wouldn't be wrong," I said darkly, causing a swift uproar of laughter on the table. I did not feel much like laughing. Not with a moribund woman levitating over my head.

"Where are they going to hide the boy next?" Tom inquired.

"At the home of one of the Order," said Snape. "I think there's little chance to get to him once he's there... unless the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to undo enough of the enchantments-"

"Well Yaxley," Tom called. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"

Yaxley squared his shoulders. "Milord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse."

Many looked impressed, Dolohov even clapped him on the back.

"It is a start," Tom said coldly. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act... one failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"You're going to kill the Minister?" I asked. All eyes turned on me and I shook my head. "This is madness."

"This is war," Tom said. "If you were inclined not to disturb this meeting any further-"

"I'm inclined to ask you what you plan to do – attack Potter while he's travelling, yes? He'll be guarded. And the Order's not made up of weaklings."

"I shall attend to the boy in person," Tom sneered. "There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs."

Ironically, I believed he hit the nail on the head.

"I understand better now," Tom continued. "I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

The room went eerily silent. Of course, no one wanted to give up their wand, it was as though he was asking for an arm.

"No volunteers? Let's see... Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

"My Lord?" Lucius breathed helplessly.

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"You can have mine."

Tom's eyes shot to me and I squared my shoulders. "I trust that in your presence, I won't need it."

Tom sneered and snatched Lucius' wand from the pale man's hand. "I think I'll do better with this one."

I narrowed my eyes at him and he glared in turn.

"You remember the promise you made me, Lorraine?" he inquired coldly.

"I was merely offering. No greater honour than to serve you, _milord_," I said coldly.

He raised Lucius' wand and pointed it to the figure above us. Charity Burbage came to life with a groan and begun struggling weakly.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?"

"Severus," the woman breathed. "Help me!"

"And you, Draco?" Tom inquired.

Nagini had wound herself around his shoulders and he carefully stroked its snout. I shuddered at the memory of my nightmare only a few nights ago.

Draco shook his head jerkily.

"But you would not have taken her classes," Tom mused. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage, who until recently, taught at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

I gritted my teeth as he gleefully continued. "Yes, Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles – how they are not so different from us..."

"Severus," the woman begged. "Please, please..."

"Silence," Tom snapped and with a flick of Lucius' wand, the woman was forced to remain silent. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defence of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance – she would have us all mate with Muggles... or, no doubt, werewolves..."

It took no genius to read the bloodlust and anger in Tom and I suddenly decided that I did not want to see. I did not want to witness this woman's death that she only suffered because of her perfectly reasonable views. I jumped to my feet and walked along the table. The Death Eater's eyes, formerly fixed on the helpless woman now turned to me as I strut to the door.

"Lorraine," Tom called after me, but I simply ignored him.

I couldn't ignore the hissed spell and the dull thud of a dead body on the marbled table, though.


	11. The Seven Potters

**So, guys, I hope you started the new year all right :) Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all reviewed! On we go.**

* * *

Tom was fuming when he met me later that day.

"You promised not to embarrass me," he yelled.

"You were going to kill her," I said quietly, unwilling to match his tone.

"I have," he spat and I wondered if he enjoyed rubbing his wickedness under my nose.

"I know," I said. "I never doubted you would."

"You disobeyed me in front of my followers, you spoke against me and you-"

"I told you," I said. "I don't belong."

"I just want you to pull yourself together," he said forcefully. "She was just a blood-traitor, telling us to mingle with Muggles-"

He broke off, stunned as my palm connected with his face. Sometimes, even I could not quite believe the nerve of me. I glared at him as his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You dare-"

"I dare," I spat. "How can you talk like that? How can you – knowing how I grew up? How can you, considering your heritage? Do I have to remind you of the Muggle blood flowing in _your_ veins? Did you steal your magic as well, yes? All that magnificent power, you stole it?"

"Are you suggesting-"

"I am suggesting that you're a hypocrite."

We stared at each other, both breathing heavily in our anger. Tom's red eyes were blazing, but I did not give in.

"So you say I'm wrong," he said finally. "My values are wrong? My goals are wrong?"

"Of course they are. I know you know it, too. You're not stupid, Tom."

We were both silent. What else was there to say, really? Nothing had changed over the past fifteen years. Everything was different, but nothing had changed.

I shook my head slightly, more at myself than at him.

"I'm so tired of fighting," I told him.

"Well, let's not."

I scoffed. "Right."

I turned around to leave the room, but he grabbed me by the shoulder and forcefully turned me around again.

"Don't turn your back on me!"

"I should have turned my back on you ages ago!"

We glared at each other again until I finally threw my hands up in defeat.

"Look, we should just... forget about it."

"Maybe you should just stay away from our meetings from now on," he suggested.

I nodded stiffly. He swept past me and left without another word.

* * *

I was pacing up and down in the parlour, waiting for their return. He wanted to kill Harry Potter, obviously, but whenever he tried, it seemed to go wrong. Needless to say, I was worried.

The door opened and Tom strode in. I rushed towards him and hugged him close, relief flowing through me.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I whispered into his chest.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm fine, relax, I'm fine..."

His grip on me tightened and I pressed further into him. But his grip grew even tighter; I gasped, realizing that it got hard to breathe. I looked up to find that it was not Tom at all; it was his horrible snake, even larger and more terrifying than usual, choking me.  
I screamed.

I gasped as I awoke, alone this time. What the hell was going on?  
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm down my breathing and frantic heartbeat.

I got up and tapped into the kitchen for a glass of water. My eyes landed on the calendar. It was July 27. He actually was out there right now, trying to get the boy. I sighed heavily, pressing my hands down on the counter to steady myself. I did not want to worry, not after all that went down the other day. I found myself wishing the numbness I had felt for weeks after Azkaban had remained; if it had, I would not be standing here right now. I would be lying comfortably in my bed, sleeping without a care in the world.

I shook my head at myself. It was senseless wishing for these things.

* * *

"Lorraine!" Narcissa appeared to be very pleased by my arrival. "What a surprise – I didn't think we'd see you again so soon..."

"Well, I had to inquire how it went-"

"Oh," she said and her smile dropped. "Well..."

"Many?" I inquired.

"How many are many?"

"One, I'd say."

She bit her lip. "We've lost several. And many are injured..."

"Is he around?" I inquired.

Narcissa nodded and pointed me to the drawing room. I sent her a wary smile and walked in. She had not lied when she said that many were injured. Several Death Eaters were lying on quickly conjured cots, faces pained and pale. I looked around and found that Tom was standing at the far end, with Bellatrix standing next to him and whispering hurriedly to him.  
As I turned my eyes away, I found that her husband was lying on a cot nearby, bleeding profusely from a gash on his arm and he sported several more cuts.

I stepped closer and he blinked up at me, confused.

"You're not the healer," he managed hoarsely.

"No, sorry," I said. "Maybe I can-"

I grabbed my wand and swiftly conjured a pack of bandages. I reached over and wrapped them around his arm. "That'll do it until there's a healer seeing to you."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Welcome," I said. "Just a friendly turn."

He attempted to laugh, but it was more of a cough than anything else. I looked over to Tom again and found that Bellatrix was still talking.

"Are you up to paying me back?" I asked.

"Depends," he said.

"I'll send your wife over."

"You're no friend," he deadpanned.

I smiled wryly and got up. "Sorry, mate."

I got up and walked across the room, which took up a long time due to the very restricted room.

"Hey," I said as I reached the two of them.

Tom's eyes widened slightly, though I doubted that anyone else noticed. Bellatrix glared at me, though.

"What?" she said. "Came to gloat?"

"There's nothing to gloat about," I bit back. "Your husband asked for you."

Her brows furrowed and she glanced across the room. "Really?"

"Yes," I said. "His arm doesn't look good, you know?"

She sneered. "I'm no healer, I don't see why-"

"Bella," Tom said softly without even looking at her. "You should grant Rodolphus' request."

"Yes, master," she said at once, her eyes dropping obediently. She walked away and I heaved a sigh of relief.

"I pity Rod," I said.

"Well," Tom said coldly. "What do you want?"

"I came here to check on you," I said. "What happened?"

"They used Polyjuice Potion," he said bitterly. "They had seven Potters and we had to split to get him-"

"And-?"

"We failed," he spat. "Look."

He pulled out what had once been Lucius Malfoy's wand. I stared at the sorry remnants and then looked back up at Tom.

"How-?"

"I have no idea," he growled. "Just the two wands connected and... Ollivander _promised _the connection was due to the twin wands-"

"Well, maybe the connection runs deeper," I said thoughtfully.

Tom's lip curled dangerously. "There has to be a way to kill that boy!"

"Maybe it's not meant to be," I said.

"I don't care if it's meant to be," he growled. "Only one of us can live! I'm going to make sure that's me."

"Our destiny is often met in the very paths we take to avoid it," I told him.

He groaned and turned to observe the room before him. "So what? You came here to impart your wisdom?"

"Merlin knows you need it."

He huffed. "I'm not avoiding any destiny-"

"You're trying to escape death," I said flatly. "I'd say you're avoiding all right."

He sneered but did not answer and I was thankful for it. I did not want to fight, not again.

"At least we took Moody down with us."

"Moody?"

"Mad-Eye, you know? The Auror?"

"Oh," I said slowly. "Yes, I've heard of him."

Tom nodded, more to himself than to me and then added, "We got the boy's owl, too."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Great. Now you kill animals. You're an animal murderer."

He sent me a stern look and I gave him a small smile in return. His lips curled in amusement. I chuckled and I was sure that if he did not have to keep up appearances, Tom would have laughed as well.

* * *

**Just for the record before anyone gets upset, right, Hedwig's death was one of the saddest things to ever happen in that book. Or any book for that matter. Was that really necessary, J.K.?  
No owls were harmed in the writing of this chapter. **


End file.
